Chicago Countenance
by SunnyBatgirl
Summary: Jarod becomes the third part to Chicago's strange partnership.


Title: Chicago Countenance Author: Little Spooky Rating: PG Pairings: Thatcher/male, Fraser/Thatcher, Kowalski/Female, Jarod/female, Jarod/Miss Parker Keywords: Pretender/Due South crossover Ray: Kowalski Author's note: While my brain is spinning its tires over two other stories, the only ideas I could come up with lead to a third story. Maybe while I'm working on this one, I'll get ideas for the others. Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I don't own it and all that jazz. Due South and its wonderful Mounties belong to Alliance, and Pretender and its characters belong to NBC Studios.  
  
Summary/Teaser: Jarod becomes the third part to Chicago's strange partnership.  
  
Originally posted on Red Suits You  
  
----------  
  
"This is where you'll spend most of your time," Lieutenant Welsh explained to the new officer. "Unless you actually get out on the streets. My advice is stay here. And watch out for the woman wearing a yellow civilian aide shirt."  
  
"Why?" he asked.  
  
"You'll find out when you meet her." Welsh looked around. "Any questions?"  
  
"Where is my desk?"  
  
"I'm partnering you with Vechio. He's the one usually hanging around the Mounties. Share his desk. If you can find it. What's your name again?"  
  
"Jarod Johnson, Sir."  
  
"Right. Hey Vechio!!"  
  
"Yeah." Ray spoke up. "What is it?"  
  
"Meet your new partner, Detective Jarod Johnson. Show him the ropes and don't annoy him."  
  
"My 'new partner'?" Ray practically spat out his coffee. "But Fraser an' I..."  
  
"He's Canadian. You're not officially Fraser's partner. And if you see Francesca, tell her to get the cappuccino machine out of the supply closet." Welsh walked into his office and closed the door behind him.  
  
"Cappuccino machine?" Jarod gave Ray a weird look. "In the closet?"  
  
"She needs somewhere to store it." Ray explained. "An' Welsh won't let her leave it in the break room."  
  
"I've never heard of a police station having a cappuccino machine before."  
  
Ray shrugged. "Yeah, well, we're not supposed to have it. Francesca got it anyway. So... uh, Jarod, is it? Welcome to the Chicago Police Department. Where ya from?"  
  
"Oh, here and there," Jarod smiled. "I grew up in Delaware, but I... decided to move."  
  
"'Delaware', hmmm? Ever been to someplace like Chicago?"  
  
"Yeah. Chicago. I was here once, but I didn't stay long."  
  
"Don't blame ya," Ray walked to his desk and sat down. "Sometimes I feel like leavin' myself."  
  
"How do you find anything here?" Jarod glanced around Ray's desk.  
  
"A pile for everything and nothing in its pile." A woman with short reddish brown hair walked up behind them. "Hi. I'm Francesca." She held out her hand. "And you are?"  
  
"Jarod Johnson," Jarod shook her hand. "You're the woman with the cappuccino machine in the closet?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," Francesca's eyes lit up. "You want a some? 'Cause I can get you a cup."  
  
"Hey, Frannie," Ray cut in. "Welsh wants it out of the closet."  
  
"You first," she quipped back.  
  
It took Ray a moment to realize just what she said. "Hey!! I am dating Fraser's sister."  
  
"I thought she was in Canada."  
  
"Yeah, well, it's a long distance relationship."  
  
"Um, Francesca?" Jarod interrupted. "I would like to try some cappuccino."  
  
"You've never tried it before? Oh, man, are you in for a treat!! You'll love it!!"  
  
"You shouldn't have done that," Ray shook his head. "Fraser will be glad you did, but you shouldn't have."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You'll find out soon enough."  
  
Jarod turned to watch Francesca leave and noticed a Mounties making his way toward him and Ray.  
  
"Hey, Fraser," Ray greeted the Mounties. "This is Jarod Johnson, my new partner. He's gonna be with us for a while. Jarod, this is Constable Benton Fraser."  
  
"Ah," Ben shook Jarod's hand. "What brings you to Chicago?"  
  
"My family, actually," Jarod replied. "I'm trying to find a few of my relatives."  
  
"Okay, Fraser, tell him the story," Ray crossed his arms.  
  
"'Story', Ray?"  
  
"Yeah, you tell it to everyone we meet."  
  
"Ah," Ben turned to Jarod. "I, too, came here on a family related subject. I came to Chicago on the trail of my father's murderer and, for reasons which need not be explored at this juncture, have stayed as the Canadian liaison officer to Chicago."  
  
"Hmm, interesting," Jarod smiled. "A little bit of family history in there. I wasn't lucky enough to know either of my parents while I was growing up."  
  
"You adopted or somethin'?" Ray asked.  
  
"No," Jarod replied. "So, I understand you're working on the Mercai case?"  
  
"Yeah," Ray shook his head. "A regular Sacco an' Vanzetti case."  
  
"Actually, Ray," Ben interrupted. "Sacco and Vanzetti were two Italian immigrants who, in the 1920's, were charged of..."  
  
"Yeah, Fraser," Ray said. "So you know your American History better than me. So it isn't a Sacco and Vanzetti case. It's like a ..."  
  
"Ray, what are you doing working on the Sacco - Vanzetti case?" Francesca arrived with the cappuccino. "That was clear back in the '20's. Here's your cappuccino, Jarod."  
  
"Frannie, I ain't workin' on the stupid Sacco an' Vanzetti case!!"  
  
"Well, don't get huffy about it," Francesca crossed her arm. "And it wasn't a stupid case. You know, the only reason they were charged is because they were Italian."  
  
"It was eighty years ago," Ray stood up. "I don't care."  
  
"What did I say? You drink that terrible coffee, you get a terrible attitude."  
  
"Francesca, please. We are workin' here."  
  
"Fine," Francesca went to leave. "But you just wait. You'll find someone you're compatible with, they'll say one thing wrong, and you'll bite off their head. All because you drink bad coffee."  
  
"Interesting woman," Jarod commented after she had left. "Very determined."  
  
"You don't know the half of it," Ray replied. "Right Fraser?"  
  
"Well, she can be very insistent..."  
  
"'Insistent'?" Ray laughed. "She's after you like a rabid wolf. Hey, where's the wolf?"  
  
"I believe Detective Dewy has some potato chips," Fraser replied.  
  
"Is it always like this?" Jarod interrupted.  
  
"Nah," Ray smiled. "This is a calm day." ----------  
  
"And the ambassador is arriving...?" Inspector Thatcher glanced over the reports in front of her.  
  
"Tomorrow, ma'am," Constable Turnbull replied. "Should I prepare a room for the ambassador? Perhaps the..."  
  
"I'm sure the ambassador has other plans," she interrupted. "Though I suppose it wouldn't help for you to ask."  
  
"Oh, thank you, ma'am. Will there be anything else?"  
  
"No, continue with your duties."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Turnbull quickly turned and walked out of her office.  
  
"And I thought Fraser annoyed me when he calls me 'Sir'," Meg mumbled under her breath.  
  
She shook her head and glanced down at the papers in front of her. Every few minutes the letters would fade out, and her vision became blurred.  
  
"I'm working too hard," Meg closed her eyes when she found herself unable to concentrate.  
  
Meg stood up and walked to her office window. Outside, Ray's car was parked in front of the Consulate and Ray, Ben, and another man were in front of it talking. Diefenbaker stood that their feet, but led the way when they moved toward the Consulate.  
  
"Oh, God, now what?" Meg asked herself as she heard the front doors open.  
  
Walking out of her office, Meg came face to face with the new member of the group.  
  
"Hello," he greeted. He was tall with dark hair and dark eyes which had an unmistakable intelligence behind them.  
  
"Hello," Meg repeated back.  
  
"I'm Detective Jarod Johnson," he smiled.  
  
"Inspector Meg Thatcher," Meg held out her hand, and Jarod shook it. "May I help you?"  
  
"Oh, sure," Ray laughed. "To everyone else, she's the Ice Queen, but introduce her to the new guy and she's Little Miss Hospitality."  
  
"I sometimes have that effect on people," Jarod smiled. "Sometimes."  
  
Meg gave Ray a cold stare and then turned back to Jarod. "What brings you here?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, this and that."  
  
Ben cleared his throat. "Detective Johnson will be working with Ray and myself for a while. Although we are currently working on a case,..."  
  
"Jarod has more leads," Ray cut in.  
  
"I'm trying to find this girl," Jarod handed Meg a picture. "At one point, she lived in Toronto, so I thought you might be able to help."  
  
"What's her name?" Meg glanced up.  
  
"Emily."  
  
"No last name?"  
  
"I didn't have the chance to find out."  
  
"There are a few places I could sent it to."  
  
"I would appreciate that," Jarod smiled.  
  
"It would take a while, though," Meg stood up.  
  
"Police procedures usually do."  
  
"In the mean time," Meg smiled slightly. "Would you like to get some coffee or something?"  
  
"Well," Jarod was surprised. "Do you like ice cream?"  
  
Meg laughed. "I haven't had ice cream in years. Yeah. how about tonight, at six?"  
  
"I'll meet you here," Jarod smiled and turned to leave.  
  
Ben's face was blank, but he was clearly thinking of something, and Ray was grinning.  
  
"What?" Jarod asked.  
  
Ray laughed and clapped Ben on the back. They left Meg's office, and Ray motioned for Jarod to follow. Meg frowned as they left.  
  
"I will never understand those two," Meg mumbled to herself. ----------  
  
"What was that all about?" Jarod asked when they reached Ray's car.  
  
"It's a long story," Ray explained. "But basically... I know Fraser's gonna deny this, but... he has the hots for the Ice Queen."  
  
"Honestly, Ray, the Inspector and I are just..."  
  
"Ice Queen?" Jarod looked puzzled.  
  
"That is Ray's nickname for Inspector Thatcher," Ben explained. "And our relationship is completely plutonic. She's my superior..."  
  
"Keep tellin' yourself that, Buddy," Ray smirked. "Maybe someday someone who doesn't know ya with actually believes ya."  
  
"But wouldn't she melt if she were an 'ice queen' and Constable Fraser has 'the hots' for her?" Both Ben and Ray stared at him. "It is a scientific fact that ice melts approximately between 31 and 33 degrees Fahrenheit. And 'hot' is usually considered a much higher temperature."  
  
"Yeah," Ray shook his head. "Whatever. Just get in the car."  
  
----------  
  
Meg glanced in the mirror one last time before opening the door for Jarod. She had decided not to wear something too dressy since it was just ice cream, but she still looked nice. She had slightly curled her hair, and one very curly lock fell in front of her left eye.  
  
She quickly opened the door and almost laughed. Compared to Jarod, she was over-dressed.  
  
Jarod stood there smiling. Wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt with the phrase "I know people." In white letters, he almost didn't look like a police officer.  
  
"Ready?" He asked.  
  
"Of course," Meg replied.  
  
----------  
  
"Pez?" Meg felt giddy. "That's a new one on me."  
  
"It's not on you," Jarod replied. "It's on the ice cream."  
  
Meg laughed. "You have a wonderful sense of humor. But orange Pez on chocolate ice cream? I have to say that's weird. That's a lot coming from me considering who I work with."  
  
"Well, they didn't have daiquiri ice cream."  
  
Meg smiled again. "Which is your favorite?"  
  
Jarod smiled. "I haven't tried them all yet."  
  
"There's some I wouldn't want to try."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Just their names are kind of a turn off."  
  
"Which ones?"  
  
"I can't remember any of the names at the moment, but there are some weird ones out there." She shrugged.  
  
The two walked along for a few blocks before Meg stopped in front of a building.  
  
"This is my stop. Would you like to come in?" She smiled slightly.  
  
"I'd like to, but I probably shouldn't. I have a lot of work to do. Searching for Emily and all." Jarod smiled back.  
  
"What exactly is the deal with you, Jarod?" Meg studied his face. "Is this Emily a relative of yours or were you hired to find her? Is she a missing person? I'd like to know what to put on my reports."  
  
"In some ways, she's missing, and in others, I am." Jarod frowned. "It depends on the way you look at it. It's... a little hard to explain. And a little unbelievable."  
  
"Try me," Meg crossed her arms. "Constable Fraser has conversations with his wolf, and there are countless times I've found him talking to some invisible person inside his closet."  
  
"I've seen stranger."  
  
"Like I said, try me."  
  
"'Try you'?"  
  
"Yeah, tell it to me, and I'll tell you if it's strange or not."  
  
Jarod stared at her for a moment. "Very rarely," he started after a while, "do I find someone I can really, truly trust. I think you might be one of those people."  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment."  
  
"It is. You're honest, but you have secrets, too, which you tell no one, even if you show them."  
  
"What does that mean?" Meg uncrossed her arms and put one on the railing on the stairs.  
  
"Through your actions, I can tell certain things that you won't... don't come out and say."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"You're interested in Constable Fraser as more than just being his superior officer. I can tell certain things. It comes from being a Pretender."  
  
"A what?" Meg was beginning to think he wasn't all there up top.  
  
Jarod sighed. "Maybe we should go inside. I never know who's lurking around the corner."  
  
"Okay..." Meg was hesitant, but decided against the tiny fears in the back of her mind. ----------  
  
Inside Meg's apartment, Jarod quickly glanced around before taking a seat at the kitchen table.  
  
"So," Meg sat down across from him. "What exactly is a 'pretender'?"  
  
"The most common definition is that we're geniuses who can be whoever we want to be."  
  
"So can every other kid in the free world," Meg was skeptical.  
  
"On impulse, though?" Jarod countered. "I could wake up tomorrow, go into the nearest hospital, and be a doctor. I have been multiple times already. With no degree in anything. I've been a racecar driver, part of the FBI, CIA, Coast Guard, National Guard, you name it. I've been practically everything. Even part of the RCMP. All within the past few years since I escaped."  
  
"Escaped?"  
  
"In Blue Cove Delaware, there is a place called the Centre. Call it a think tank of sorts. I was there for about thirty years. They bring in different Pretenders and put them through various simulations. I've been through hundreds of them. When I ran away, I took most of the dsa's with my simulations on them with me."  
  
"'Dsa's'?"  
  
"They're archives, video and sound, of everything that went on in the Centre. They're made mainly so the simulations can be reviewed over and over again, but they're useful in security matters as well."  
  
"This 'Centre' sounds like something off of television, you know that?" Meg shook her head. "Do you want some coffee or something?"  
  
Jarod shook his head. "No, I need to get back to my apartment." He looked at her for a moment. "If you don't believe me about the Centre, I can bring proof to the Consulate tomorrow. I have the dsa's at my apartment."  
  
"If you really want to." Meg replied. "It is a little much to grasp."  
  
"Okay." Jarod got up to leave. "Have a pleasant night." He smiled and walked out the door.  
  
Meg watched through her window as he came out of the building, glanced both ways, and continued down the street. She shook her head and sighed. "Boy, Meg. You sure know how to pick them." ----------  
  
Jarod arrived at the consulate the next morning only shortly after Meg. He was carrying a black duffel bag.  
  
"What is that?" Meg questioned him.  
  
"The dsa's," Jarod whispered. "Your office?"  
  
"Fine." Meg led the way and sat behind her desk.  
  
Jarod closed the door behind him and pulled a silver briefcase from the duffel bag. Placing it in front of Meg, he opened it and placed a small disk in a slot. Almost immediately the screen sprang to life and showed a young boy building a tower from legos.  
  
"This is from my first simulation," Jarod pointed at the lower left hand side of the screen where his name, the date, and "FOR CENTRE USE ONLY" were in white letters.  
  
"I'm finished!" the boy on the screen peered through a window. The window slid open, and the boy stepped back.  
  
A man appeared from the other side. "Hello, Jarod," the man said. "I'm Sydney, and I'll be working with you for a while."  
  
"Why?" The boy was neither sad nor afraid. "Where are my mom and dad?"  
  
As the dsa stopped, Meg glanced up at Jarod. "How old were you?"  
  
"About four or five," Jarod replied. "I remember very little before that point."  
  
"The American Government allows this to happen?"  
  
"They don't know it's happening. The Centre is very good at covering their tracks."  
  
"Sounds like a giant conspiracy. Are you sure this 'Centre' isn't part of some government bureau or..."  
  
"It's a private institution. And not one you want to get mixed up with." Jarod crossed his arms. "I'm only up against them because it means my freedom. I'm not going back there. It's worse than prison."  
  
"So where does this Emily tie in?" Meg asked. "Was she there, too?"  
  
"No. She was lucky. I saw her once with my mother. At that time I didn't know who she was. I didn't get to talk with them. Sweepers showed up, and I had to..."  
  
"Sweepers?"  
  
"People from the Centre. Security personnel mainly, but sometimes they're led by someone like Mr. Lyle or Miss Parker. Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines especially are two people you don't want to mess with. Sometimes it's fun with Miss Parker, though. Her past is almost as much of a mystery as mine." Jarod smiled an almost childish grin.  
  
"So do you have for Miss parker what I have for Fraser?" Meg leaned back in her chair.  
  
"I don't have the time. It's one pretend after another. I go in, help as best I can, and get out one or two steps ahead of the Centre in most cases. They caught me once, but I was gone before they knew it."  
  
"Time is a matter of perspective," Meg countered. "I could say I don't have enough time to..." She lowered her voice. "... be in love with Fraser. Some people would believe me. Some wouldn't. I wouldn't believe myself."  
  
Jarod smiled. "Okay. Maybe I do. I've known her for a long time. Even if I did have feelings for her, we're on opposite sides. It wouldn't work."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Positive."  
  
"Only fools are positive."  
  
"What?"  
  
Meg laughed. "No one can be completely positive on anything. Nothing is a certainty. I used to be certain the RCMP gave anyone who wished to enter the academy a full psychological examination. After meeting Turnbull, I've had some doubts."  
  
Jarod smiled. "He's not so bad. He and Angelo could be best friends. Maybe even Broots."  
  
"'Angelo' and 'Broots'?"  
  
"Two people at the Centre. Angelo's empathic in a way. He wasn't born that way. Mr. Raines did something to him when he was a kid. Broots is pretty much a computer geek. He works with Miss Parker and Sydney trying to find me."  
  
"The same Sydney in the dsa?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Meg sat quietly for a moment. She tilted her head to the side and studied Jarod's face. "I believe you," she finally said. "I'm probably insane for doing so, but I believe you."  
  
"So you'll help me find Emily?"  
  
"There are a couple of places I could fax the picture to. It'll probably take a couple of weeks, but these places are pretty good at finding people."  
  
"I don't know that I'll be in Chicago that long. Could you e-mail the results to me at this address?" Jarod wrote an e-mail address on a small piece of paper.  
  
"That would be possible." ----------  
  
When Ben entered the Consulate, Meg's door was closed. This wasn't altogether unusual, however Turnbull was nowhere to be found. This was definitely unusual. Peering further back into the Consulate, Ben noticed him busily scrubbing the kitchen floor with what appeared to be a toothbrush. Staring for a moment, Ben shook his head and headed back to the front of the Consulate where he noticed Jarod coming out of Meg's office.  
  
"I'll send them off as soon as I get the forms filled out." Meg told Jarod. "Our government is a stickler for forms."  
  
"Just be glad you're not part of the FBI. Pretty much everything is done in triplicate. At the least."  
  
"I'll stick with the Canadian Government. I have Fraser and Turnbull. I don't need conspiracies on top of it."  
  
Jarod laughed. "Good luck." He smiled and quickly left the building.  
  
"Good morning, Sir."  
  
"Good morning, Fraser."  
  
Ben was startled. She had actually smiled at him. She seemed almost cheerful.  
  
"Sir, if I may ask..." Ben was cautious.  
  
"Why Johnson was here?"  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
"Don't overdo it. He had to tell me a few changes. He's not going to be in Chicago long, so..." She stopped when the door opened, and Jarod rushed in.  
  
"Please tell me you have another exit."  
  
"Why?" Meg asked him.  
  
"Miss Parker."  
  
"Fraser, show him the back exit. I'll hold off Parker." Meg switched to command mode.  
  
As Ben led Jarod to the back, he heard the door open.  
  
"May I help you?" Meg asked.  
  
"Where'd he go?" another woman spoke.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The man who just came in here."  
  
"Oh, you mean Jarod. He's really unique. Are you his wife?"  
  
Jarod's eyes bulged, and both he and Ben held off a laugh.  
  
"No." The woman replied.  
  
"Oh, are you that Miss Parker he's always talking about?"  
  
"Exactly what has he been saying?" Miss Parker sounded angry.  
  
"Here it is," Ben whispered. "If you don't mind my asking, what exactly is going on?"  
  
"Ask Meg about the Centre," Jarod quickly replied. "I told her everything." He pushed open the door, glanced both ways, and ran down the street, duffel bag in hand.  
  
Ben slowly made his way back to the front of the consulate as to not cause any suspicion from their guest, who, fed up with Meg's diversion, had decided to search the Consulate.  
  
"I'm warning you," Meg scowled at Miss Parker, who was climbing the stairs. "This is Canada, and we don't take kindly to unlawful searches. Why are you looking for Johnson? Are you a bounty hunter?"  
  
"You could say that." Miss Parker gave her a sideways smile.  
  
"A bounty hunter looking for a Chicago policeman. On what grounds?"  
  
"You just rub everyone the wrong way, don't you?" Ray walked in the door. "Not a please, no thank you. I didn't even hear a 'let's have dinner sometime'."  
  
"Then your hearing is perfect," Miss Parker turned back to Meg. "As I told your weird haired friend, it's none of your business."  
  
"Then let me tell you something that *is* my business," Meg crossed her arms. "I met Jarod yesterday. He trusted me enough to tell me his life story. And for some reason that I can't figure out, he pretty much thinks the world of you. He basically described the Centre trying to get him back as a game when you're the one chasing him. I you ever do catch up with him, I suggest you listen to what he has to say." Miss Parker was speechless. "Fraser, my office, NOW. Vechio, I'm sure you have other things to do. As for you, Parker, Jarod's not here. Go search for him elsewhere."  
  
----------  
  
Inside her office, Meg sighed against the closed door. She had never yelled at anyone she had just met before.  
  
She looked up. Ben was standing a few feet away with his classic deer-in- the-headlights look.  
  
"Contrary to popular belief, I don't bite."  
  
"I am not afraid of that, Sir." Ben swallowed loudly compared to the quiet room.  
  
"Then what are you afraid of?"  
  
"I am unsure," he relaxed a bit. "What did you want me for, Sir?"  
  
"I'm taking a little advice from Jarod."  
  
Ben stood a little more stiffly. Meg noticed.  
  
"Relax. He and I aren't... He loves someone else. He hasn't told her his feelings, and he regrets that. Basically he told me not to make the same mistake."  
  
"Sir?" Ben was surprised.  
  
"I once told you to forget about what happened on the train. Now I'm taking that order back. It may not be the best relationship, but I'm willing to give it a try if you are. And if you are, please, call me 'Meg'."  
  
"Okay..." Ben smiled."...Meg."  
  
----------  
  
Somewhere near the Iowa-Illinois border around dusk  
  
"So you caught me."  
  
"I guess I did."  
  
"Now what?"  
  
"We have the rest of the night to find out." Miss Parker smiled from the other side of the bed, handcuff dangling from two fingers.  
  
Fin 


End file.
